Fighting For Pack
by Supernova95
Summary: Stiles' encounter with Gerard goes a little differently, leading Derek to the conclusion that Stiles means more to him, and the Pack, than he originally thought.


There were many words that could describe what finally playing lacrosse felt like:

Exhilarating, nerve-wracking, exciting, unbelievable. There were words also to describe winning the game: glorious, thrilling, intoxicating even.

But few of them could describe being kidnapped by your Principal and thrown into his cellar.

At first it was almost pitch black, the only light source being the crack of light under the door leading to the rest of the house. It wasn't nearly enough light to even find the light switch; causing Stiles, in his own true fashion, to search blindly in the dark.

His hand hit something and the blinding flash of light told Stiles that he had found the light switch. It took him a few moments to grow accustomed to the new brightness, but once he did Stiles's stomach plummeted as he realised he wasn't alone in the room.

"Oh God!" He whispered, taking, at first, tentative steps towards his friends, which became a rush as he got closer.

Boyd and Erica were here.

Boyd and Erica, whom Derek said had run away to become omegas instead of building a bigger, stronger, pack with him. As much as the man had tried to hide it Stiles heard the bitter disappointment and loneliness in the Alpha as he informed him of his friends' fate.

Well, they weren't friends exactly, but anyone who willingly talked to Stiles, even if it was just to growl and threaten him, was a friend in his book, that and the whole 'we share the same wolfie secret so we might as well be pals' mentality he had going.

But friends or not; no one should ever be hanged from a ceiling by their wrists using electrical wire that was simultaneously sending electric currents through their bodies.

It was in that moment that Stiles developed an even deeper hatred for hunters. They were just kids. Sixteen for goodness sake! What kind of a monster kidnaps and electrocuted kids who haven't done anything wrong. They were under control, and when they weren't they were in so many chains they weren't dangerous.

Stiles stops directly in front of them, eyes darting around, trying to find a way to set them free. Instinctively he reaches a hand out, not hearing Erica and Boyd's muffled warnings.

"Aaaaghh!" Stiles reels as he's shocked backwards, shaking the pain out of his hands he glared at the cables. Electricity, right.

"They were trying to warn you. It's electrified." Stiles startled again as the voice of Gerard boomed from directly behind him. Somehow the man managed to sound terrifying, yet patronising at the same time.

"What are you doing with them?" He asked, voice weary and stance defensive, he didn't like this one bit.

Gerard gave him a toothy grin and stepped towards his pack mates. He ran his hand over a power pack as though it was a treasured family pet.

"Did you know that running a current through a werewolf will stop their ability to shift; reduce their strength; their healing ability. At high enough voltages it could even kill them."

Stiles remembered the equipment they had found in the Hale basement just after Derek had become Alpha and shuddered. These people were sick, they had no 'code', they were barely even human.

The old man sighed, "But at the moment we're just keeping them comfortable. There's no point torturing them, they won't give Derek up. The instinct to protect their Alpha is too strong."

Stiles saw Gerard's hand move towards the dial and he knew he had to do something, buy some time and distract the hunter so he could find a way to release his friends.

"Okay, so what are you doing with me?" He said quickly, moving to take up a position in front of the hanging wolves. "Because The Pack can find me, alright? They know my scent. It's pungent you know, it's more like a stench. They could find me even if I was buried at the bottom of a sewer covered in fecal matter and urine."

Gerard huffed a laugh, clearly amused by Stiles' lack of brain to mouth filter.

"You have a knack for creating a vivid picture Mr Stilinski, let me paint one of my own. Your 'Pack' finds their token human bloodied and beaten to a pulp, how does that sound now?" Gerard threatened as he turned his back to Stiles, what he was doing Stiles' dreaded to think, but he saw the opening he was presented with.

"I think I prefer those movies where good always triumphs you know." He said as he lunged for the power pack turning it off and pulling the cables out.

The next few seconds felt like a lifetime; though that might have been because Stiles was pretty sure that he saw his life flash before his eyes.

The sudden lack of the wires buzzing created a deafening silence.

A silence that shattered with Gerard's infuriated bellow, "What have you done?!"

Then the old man attacked him.

His face burned, his chest ached and he couldn't breathe, it had all happened so quickly that Stiles hadn't had a chance to protect himself, let alone fight back. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was a low, warning, growl and the pressure against his neck suddenly lifting.

Gerard was out for the count. They didn't _think_ he was dead, but he definitely wasn't getting up anytime soon.

It had all happened so fast, one minute they were struggling to get free from the wires they were tied up in, the next Gerard had Stiles by the throat. Stiles who wasn't even their friend but still literally stepped in front of them and bought them time; setting them free even though it meant he got hurt.

And they saw red.

Somewhere in the back of their minds they would later remember the distinct snapping of the wires, they would remember the feral growls that emanated from their throats as they lunged to protect their pack, but in the heat of the moment there was only their pack mate in danger. That was all that mattered, and Gerard paid the price.

They attacked without care about whether Gerard lived or died, only stopping once they were sure he wasn't getting up again. Only then did their shift recede and their foggy brains clear enough to get them out of the house without another hunter seeing them. Even then it was more luck than skill that got them out unscathed.

Well not all of them.

"What are we going to do?" Erica asked after they had run for a few blocks.

"Stiles' phone is still in his pocket, call Derek."

"But we're not pack, we're omegas remember. Why would he care?" Erica huffed, her old air of confidence fading with every word. They were alone, as they had chosen to be, alone together: them against the world.

And nothing had ever felt so wrong.

They were not meant to be away from pack, their family, their friends. Each and every significant person in their lives were all like tiny chords pulling in their chests, leaving an ache when the distance pulled too hard. Which was when she realised that she still felt Derek. They were still connected, somehow, even thought their betrayal they were still pack.

They still had a home.

Erica nodded, picking up the phone, and typed the number she never thought she'd use again.

"Stiles?" It had barely rung once before the curt reply came through the speakers loud and clear. Derek sounded half annoyed and infuriated, yet his tone also held some amusement and relief? "Stiles where have you been? Jackson's dead and—"

"Jackson's dead?!" Erica and Boyd shared a look of shock in the silence as Derek processed the new voice.

"_Erica?_" Derek exclaimed. "What are you doing on Stiles' phone? Where are you? What's going on?"

"Long story short; we never really left you, but were caught by the Argents whilst trying to and then Stiles was here. He got us out, but he's hurt… and we may or may not have gone feral and attacked Gerard."

Erica heard the quite hitch in Derek's breath, it was enough to make her smile for the first time in days; their alpha was anything but subtle.

"You're not fooling anyone but him, I hope you know tha—" The phone call was abruptly cut off, but Derek was already running, taking the shortest route possible to the Argent's house.

He couldn't possibly imagine what his betas were going through if one of the hunters had stumbled upon them with an unconscious Gerard and on the phone to their alpha. All he knew was that he had to get to them quickly and he didn't care if he had to tare the place apart to get to them.

Which was why he was surprised to find them running in his direction just outside the park, an unconscious Stiles hanging limply over Boyd's shoulders.

Before he could even raise an eyebrow Erica had burst into an explanation.

"Chris Argent found us. I thought we were goners, but he just muttered something about not keeping to the code and let us go. We weren't going to stick around to ask." She bent over panting for breath, it was obviously they were still very weak from whatever it was that Gerard has done to them.

Derek squared a look at Boyd, offering to take Stiles as they walked, and asked, "What happened?" _What did Gerard do to you? How come you're still here? Why didn't you leave after Argent let you go?_

"The hunters caught us in the preserve, _Allison_ decided to use us for target practice." Boyd said quietly, his eyes fierce with a look reminiscent of betrayal.

"She and Gerard locked us in their basement, hooked up to some sort of power pack…" Erica continued for him, grasping his hand tightly. Derek's heart warmed slightly at the sight of his pack his_ pack_ back with him, it was like a huge weight that had developed on his heart had been lifted. But it wasn't just that; their ties were stronger now, like their experience had strengthened them as a pack, if that was even possible.

"It made us weak, we couldn't shift. We could barely move. Then they threw Stiles down with us too."

"Stiles bought us time, taking Gerard's attention away from us." Erica grabbed Stiles' limp hand giving it a short squeeze, looking for any sign of response.

There was none.

"As soon as his back was turned," she continued, "Stiles went for the console and turned it off. But Gerard, he — he went for Stiles' throat and— and—" She choked on her words at the memory, her eyes flashed in anger.

Boyd moved so that he could gently cup Stiles' head and give Erica some comfort also. "It was crazy, man. It was like we went feral with the need to protect Stiles. We had the old geezer on his knees in a second."

Derek turned his head to look at his Betas, then Stiles' head where it was hanged limply resting on his shoulder. He paused for a moment, suddenly realising why his pack felt stronger.

And he smiled.

"That's because he's pack. We always fight for our pack."


End file.
